


In the Air

by tarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarie/pseuds/tarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is lazy and free, and he quite likes it here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Air

**Author's Note:**

> For the dogdaysofsummer prompt: _It was a still, warm day in early July. As one looked out over the flat Essex country, lying so green and peaceful under the afternoon sun, it seemed almost impossible to believe that, not so very far away, a great war was running its appointed course._
> 
> _\--Agatha Christie, The Mysterious Affair at Styles. 1924._

There's something in the air, Sirius knows. Brilliant fluffy white clouds against a crystalline blue sky. The faint scent of jasmine and honeysuckle freshly cut. Electric anticipation crackling and fading, cracking and fading endlessly. There's something in the air, and the sun is so whitebright hot and blinding that Somethings become secondary. 

He has a squint for a moment or two, but then he gives into the sun and the drifting sinking weightless feeling to roll onto his stomach. His elbow brushes against Remus's, and he presses his cheek against the lush green grass. A shift and a sigh, and there is warmth against his side, against his back. 

Sirius laughs as time goes by, Remus's lips against the nape of his neck, fingers slipping under his shirt to curl over the slope of his hip. This is lazy and free, and he quite likes it here. Here he doesn't have to think on Jamesey and Evans becoming Da and Mumsy any day now. Here he doesn't have to think on Regulus and What Might Have Beens. Here he doesn't have to think on Missions and Danger. Here he doesn't have to think on We Shouldn't Be Doing This. Here they answer to no one but Remus and Sirius and the waning magic of wards they have to strengthen every quarter hour. It's vexing, but Sirius doesn't mind it so much. He would cast a thousand wards a minute if it meant allowing him one brief moment like this in Remus's company.

Remus is company, and Sirius swallows, canting his hips forward to press earth to flesh. This could be the end, he thinks, and he wouldn't mind if it was. The end, _the_ end, and Remus sucks Sirius's lobe into his mouth, teeth scraping against the sensitive shell.

"You're–" he says, and his voice sounds like sandpaper moving against the grain.

"I am," Remus says, and Sirius smiles, feeling whitebright himself now, from the inside out.

"We are." 

Sirius opens his eyes, seeing nothing but Remus's hair and Remus's skin so very close, and he hopes that the end is just like this.


End file.
